Song-Shots!
by xMissWhitneyBexx
Summary: One-shots based on song titles! My bored self making a story out of any song there is based on our favourite characters! In canon or AU!
1. I Hate U, I Love U

**Random songs, random one-shots! I listen to music a lot to get me through a day, then I start to think about which one relates to certain situations and surprisingly, there are quite a good few! Enjoy! The Frary story is still in the works, the first chapter is _almost_ done! ATEOTB will be updated regularly and the updates for Unrequited will be on the weekends! This won't be a regularly updated story, just whenever a song comes and fits an idea. Any ideas are welcome! All characters and ships (well Kennash and Frary ;)) welcome!**

**Song: I Hate U, I Love U by Gnash and Olivia O'Brien**

****Main Characters Based On: Kenna Beaton, Sebastian Poitiers****

* * *

Kenna stepped away from the window where the rain poured heavily outside. She traced her finger over the marble-top counter, stopping short of the fridge. She bought the bare essentials; milk, eggs, butter, toast, some fruit and vegetables, noodles...

This was only temporary because this separation trial would end and she'll feel his kiss on her lips and they would be happy again. But then a week turned into two, two turned into three, then it became a month, then three and now it was almost half a year.

She still saw him, him seemingly doing better than her at the separation, and it killed her each time. It hurt badly and it made her realise how much she loved him, how much she needed him, how much it was _him_ and not Antoine that she needed and wanted him.

Then again, Kenna couldn't kid herself. Bash never truly was in love with her. He loved her, yes, but in an "_I'll settle for her"_ way, not _"She's the love of my life"_ way. Mary was the love of his life and that was the end of the conversation.

Her marriage started horribly, it was arranged and it happened ever so quickly before she could catch herself. Then slowly, they began to fall for each other and finally consummated their marriage after four months of 'marriage bliss'.

The sex was amazing, euphoric, beautiful, passionate and every other heated adjective in the dictionary. They loved hard, argued hard, but loved _harder_ after. Kenna wasn't a virgin before her marriage and neither was he, but both were a perfect fit for the other and their souls and bodies were synchronised.

Kenna scoffed, bringing a mug out of the overhead cupboard and placing it onto the counter. She grabbed a teabag and boiled some water. Tea was a comfort, and it was better than drowning her sorrows in alcohol.

Over her marriage, Kenna and Bash faced so many issues, but they always braved the storm and came out stronger. There were times she resented him and he'd use horrible things against her, resulting in either sleeping in different rooms or having rough sex to burn their heated emotions.

Kenna knew why they argued a lot, it mostly came down to one thing. Or one _person_.

Kenna kept telling herself that despite that, she would focus on herself. She would try and better herself in order to protect her marriage, her property - not that Bash was owned by her. She didn't want to, but she couldn't put anyone, even herself, above him.

She wanted to be the perfect wife for him, she wanted to give him children, to be his best friend and comfort. But he didn't want her to be that for him, he wanted _her. _He needed _her_ and Kenna, unfortunately, would never be _her_.

Sighing, she picked the kettle up and began to pour it into her mug, but her grip loosened and the boiling water spilt onto her hand. She hissed in pain, gasping at the burning, stinging sensation before her mind reacted and she ran cold water over it.

"Oh..." She whimpered, tears falling down her cheeks as she began to sob. "Oh, my God..."

...

Bash rested his chin on his arms, willing his phone to ring. He knew it was stupid, to think that she would call him after he was the one who ended things. He had no right to want her to call. She had stopped after the third month, he realised sadly.

If she still wanted him, she would have to say so. She was outgoing, she spoke her mind, she was impulsive, didn't let anyone break her down or stop her from talking. She was confident and he loved all of those qualities about her no matter how negative they seemed.

He wished she would never let him go or give up. He was scared because he ended things and she begged and begged, her efforts futile. Then he left and she packed some of her stuff and left by the time he returned.

The house was quiet without her, their photos taunting him. Her _ring_ left on the dining table, the small rock glistening in the moonlight. He hadn't touched it since she walked out six months ago. It was a reminder and whenever he had guests over, they made sure to stay well away from eating near it.

As if the ring was a shrine, they all knew he was hurting and did him a favour by not bringing it up or telling him to put it away. He needed the reminder, the pain of his harshness and brutality against his ever-meaning well wife.

She didn't know, it wasn't her fault. But it was somehow.

"An emotional affair is still an affair, Sebastian," his mother had told him disparagingly. "Sign the divorce papers already and be done with her."

Bash would never 'be done with her'. But he was done with his mother and soon sent her packing for insulting his estranged wife. If Kenna was here, she would have defended herself tooth and bloody nail.

She wasn't though and that was his fault.

He missed her, he didn't mean to blow up. He was upset and made a mountain out of a molehill and now he missed her. He missed her hand in his, the perfect fit they were. He missed the smell of her hair in the morning as they laid tangled up in bed. He missed her smile, her touch, her eyes, her soul, her breath.

Their marriage had screwed them up, chewed them up, spat them up, and burnt them. Perhaps if they'd dated for a little while longer and not have listened to the pressure of his father on them. Perhaps he should have got to know her better, had time to get over Mary.

Getting up, he picked his phone and headed upstairs. He stripped, leaving his boxers on and got into bed, placing his phone on the nightstand. It was on loud, just in case she called.

He missed her when he laid awake in bed at nights. He missed her when he had his morning coffee and when he couldn't eat because nothing tasted good without her in his life.

Bash missed her when they went to work together, her in the passenger seat to his left with her favourite music radio station on loud. Her voice echoed in his ears, her melodic laugh and effortless singing voice.

He let out a groan, getting up from the bed and shoving the covers off. He headed into the walk-in wardrobe and grabbed a black knitted sweater from the ground, ready to put it on.

He took a pause though, feeling something rub onto his fingers. He stared at them, seeing that it was sand from the time they secretly went to skinny dip on their beach trip. How on Earth had he let this sweater lay here for six months?

Bash rubbed his face. It was Kenna who always had her heart set on doing the laundry, all of his clothes ending up smelling lovely and feminine, but he never minded because she worked wonders with every stain possible from pen ink to gravy stains.

He wondered if she missed him like he missed her like crazy right now. He sank to the ground, his hands still gripping onto the sweater. He fucked with her and ended up falling deeply in love. He couldn't function without her, he was attached to her.

She was his friend somewhat first. They'd bitch and moan about something Henry did as she was in a very brief and abusive relationship with his father. He'd helped her get over the fear of looking over her shoulder. Of the fear that she had against his father. Guess she could still break his heart, now she ran to Antoine and bemoaned of his lack of presence and love for her in her life.

Bash was tired, hoping he could get some sleep, but he was never tired of Kenna. He'd stay awake, listening to her rant and ramble on about something or another whenever she had insomnia.

He did love her, but the trust he had for her was gone and now, he had to accept it. Now, he had to move on and Delphine would call soon to take the pain away again.

Everything he did for Kenna, every _right_ thing at least always came back to bite him in the back. It did him wrong and now, he was alone and tired and all of his nights would be like this.

"Fuck," he muttered, closing his eyes.

...

The next day, Kenna kept her head down as she walked into work. She just had to get through this day and go back home to sleep it off or do anything to not think about her destroyed marriage.

She headed to the staffroom but she stopped at the door when she saw Bash and Mary talk. Her heart sank as she watched him watch Mary intently, hanging onto the other woman's every word. She saw that his eyes twinkled, they rarely did that when he was with her.

Bash never cared, he never gave a damn about her and now he was doing this to spite her. To show her that he could move on even if it was with his brother's wife. He always treated Mary as if she was the only girl he'd ever seen. As if she was a princess and he was her knight in shining armour.

Kenna's heart felt like it had been ripped out, cut up into a million pieces, burnt, buried, dug up and trampled on all over again. He never ever noticed that he was killing her from the moment they said, "I do".

She walked away. Fuck work.

...

Bash looked up, sensing that someone was watching. When the space by the door was empty, he left Mary's side just as Francis walked in. Before he could investigate who was watching them, his brother struck up a conversation with him and he forgot all about the disturbed air.

By the time he got home, he contemplated being confident like Kenna and grabbing his phone to send her a text. He had missed her at work even though he was terrified to confront her.

He sighed heavily. Kenna always complained about him but the second he complained about her, she got defensive. She wouldn't hang onto his every word and forgive him.

His fingers began to type a text, but then he deleted everything. He had so much to tell her, to explain, to _express_ but she wouldn't care. She wasn't that kind of person. Everything was about her and never anyone else.

"My daughter is a princess," her father had once told him. "Now she's left my kingdom for yours, she needs to be treated like a _queen_."

His father-in-law had been completely right. Bash had unknowingly treated her like a princess. Like a princess who needed to be locked away in a tall tower or protected at all costs and her independence drained. She wanted her own man to treat her like the primadonna she was and grew up being.

In her father's home, she was the centre of most things. In their marital home, they were equals, but he treated her less than at times and he shouldn't have. He didn't want her to worry about money and he tried his best to keep up with her updated wardrobe every season or every other week. She had to have the best and he had to be the one to provide that for her.

Why else would he buy an eight-bedroom, nine-bathroom house in the middle of nowhere?

Along the way in their marriage, Bash wondered what it would be like if they had children. Then, he had decided that he wanted children and he wanted Kenna to be the mother of his children.

He asked her if that was a possibility and she said she couldn't, not with how work was going at that moment of their lives. But she did and resorted to popping birth control pills down her throat.

She had lied to him, taking him to bed every night to seemingly create a baby from their love. She got her sex and he had his chances of becoming a father increased. Until he learnt that they were _decreasing_.

When he had found out, he left for two weeks. He returned and she got on her knees and begged for forgiveness, even downing the birth control pills down the sink and taking him to bed. He forgave her, happy at the chance to finally get a chance to be a father.

Bash stood up, grabbing a bottle of Scotch from the alcohol cabinet in the dining room and pouring himself a generous amount. By his fifth glass, his feelings and drinks were mixed. He didn't know what was what.

Now, he missed Mary. Mary who he shouldn't have missed in the first place since she chose Francis over him. It was over for them and now, he saw her as a sister since her brother never paid her any mind. He was still her friend, the past firmly behind them as he fell for her best friend eventually.

Kenna had come home sobbing one night, screaming that he would never love her like he loved Mary. Saying that he would never protect her like he protected Mary. Everything was about _Mary_. Mary, Mary, Mary - fucking Mary.

He cursed, placing his phone in front of him and typing out a text to fucking Mary.

{To Mary: **I think it's best if we kept our contact for family events only. I'm sorry, but it's the only way I can get her back.**}

{From Mary: **Get her back, Bash and never let her go. Promise me that.**}

Bash gasped, staring at the text message intently before his fingers shakily replied.

{To Mary: **I promise.**}

Bash closed his eyes, thinking back to a memory of his and Mary's lips locked tight in a kiss. He had felt sparks then, but the sparks he had with Kenna were greater and more exciting. He could feel his body react to the idea of his estranged wife.

He cursed, opening his eyes. He controlled his thoughts and he should stop reminiscing about Mary. But from what he learnt from his father, it was good to have feelings and to pinpoint when everything changed.

He couldn't move on.

...

Kenna placed the bottle of sleeping pills on the counter and retrieved the Vodka that she'd bought earlier. Placing them neatly, side by side she stared at them and wondered if this was really the way to go.

She had nothing left, the bridges had all been burnt and it would make things easier for Bash. Not having to go through with the stress of a divorce and having it drag on for months.

Kenna didn't mean anything to anyone, she was a toy, a plaything for men and that was her done and dusted.

Opening the pill bottle, she poured the pills out and began counting them. She then opened the bottle of Vodka and took a sip for Dutch courage, her eyes squinting at the taste of hard liquor on her tongue.

Just as she was about to put the first pill down her throat, the doorbell rings. She placed it back down on the counter and stood from the stool, wrapping her cardigan around her frame tighter to protect her from the incoming cold.

She walked to the door and took a moment to compose herself. The bell rang again and she jumped, finally opening it and looking up to meet Bash's eyes.

"B-Bash, what are you do-"

Her words were cut off by his lips pressing against hers. She immediately melted, letting out a heartbroken whimper as her lips moulded with his and she pulled him by the collar, backing away as his hand blindly closed the door.

What felt like forever was only three minutes or so when they finally pulled apart, his eyes searching hers and her eyes trained on his lips in confusion and shock.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, stroking her cheek. "I'm so, so sorry, Kenna."

Kenna looked up at him through wet eyelashes. "No. It's too late."

She stepped out of his grip and walked into the kitchen, going over to put the pills back into the bottle again and close the Vodka. She sensed his presence right behind her and she closed her eyes when she felt the items being taken from her hands roughly.

"K-Kenna-"

"Don't worry," she snapped quietly. "I won't do it. At least not, tonight."

"Or ever," he said, going to the sink to pour the Vodka away. He then washed the pills down the drain and placed the empty containers on the counter, turning around to face her. "What happened to your hand?"

She stared at her bandaged hand and shrugged. "A little mishap with boiling water."

"Kenna-"

"Go and fawn over Mary or someone else. Just _leave_," she cut him off, rubbing her face hard.

Bash stood his ground. "No."

"Excuse me?" She asked, glaring at him. "Leave! That's what you're good at, Sebastian, so leave!"

"Maybe it's time that I stayed for once. And if I stay, I'll never look back or ever leave," he replied, walking up to her. "Kenna, I choose _you_."

"This would be the first time," she said tiredly. "Bash-"

"I want _you_," he cut her off, his hands finding their place on her hips. "I need _you_. I crave _you_. I think about _you_... I have _you_."

Kenna let tears fall as she leant up to kiss him. The kiss was slower and softer than earlier's and she started to slip his coat off his shoulders, then his shirt disappeared and her own went too...

By the time she got to his belt buckle, she had let him in again.

"I hate you," she whispered against his lips. "But I love you even _more_."

"God, Kenna," he muttered. "I love you too."


	2. Bad Liar

**Song: Bad Liar by Selena Gomez**

****Main Characters Based On: Mary Stuart, Francis Valois****

* * *

Mary walked, trying to think about anything other than the blonde-haired boy she knew from her childhood. Seeing him for the first time after all of those years had been a huge surprise.

He was drop-dead gorgeous, handsome and his eyes were still as blue and warm as she remembered. He was sweet, kind and more tolerable than he had been when they were children.

She looked up and gasped.

There he was, his back turned to her as he chatted with someone by the entrance of a restaurant bar.

Her heart skipped a beat and when he turned around, scanning his surroundings, her heart dropped. It was someone else.

By then, Mary noted that she was standing like a gawping fish and she fixed her hair and checked her ankle boots casually. Then, she continued to walk on, ignoring any curious glances as she played it coy and owned her short moment of embarrassment.

No matter how many times she tried to stop thinking about him, her love was not as subtle as she thought. She had awkwardly invited him to her brand new bed at home, told him to call her something desirable, but then she had woken up and been relieved to find out it was all a dream and she hadn't humiliated herself.

He took every fraction of her mind and it was a wonder why she hadn't started to fail at school now. He was like a snake, a snake lulling her into danger that she would willingly go towards like the one from the Garden of Eden.

_Goddamn it!_ she thought angrily.

Mary shook her head and continued home, trying and trying and trying not to think about the blonde, blue-eyed boy that stole her heart. She couldn't give into him. She had to stop thinking about him.

But if she said she didn't like him, she'd be a bad liar because her feelings were most certainly on fire. Like a dog on heat, she was absolutely in love with Francis Valois and she was proud of herself for that.

A week later, she found herself pressed against the wall in a secluded part of their school. She studied the intrigue in his eyes and she felt it was like looking in a mirror. Apparently, his attention for her was just as great, as her attention for him.

His touch was like a happy pill down her system, but she was scared to love him. He'd be her first.

His lips hovered over hers and she thought about what could possibly happen next? After the kiss, what would happen?

"Mary..." He whispered. "I-I don't know wh-"

"Can we focus on the love between us?" She breathed out, pressing her lips against his.

The month after that, he was her first in another thing and her lips pressed a pink stain across his chest. He was the art, her lips the brush. He giggled under her breath and she grinned back, kissing his chest again and again.

"I love you, Mary."

Her breath hitched in her throat. "I love you too, Francis."

They made a dream a reality. An actuality.

No more awkward stares or longing looks or tripping up in the middle of the street whenever she believed he was around when in fact, he wasn't.

Just forward loving and no more running in circles.

She was happy that she was a bad liar and he could see straight through her.


End file.
